I couldn’t suppress a snort. “In that case, hard pass.”
Bridger wrinkled his nose. “Party poopers. You’re no fun. And you know what happens when someone’s no fun, right?”
Clio shook her head. “Bridger Ross, don’t you dare!”
“Thor, get her legs!”
Before I could make out what was happening, Clio was off like a shot, racing away from Bridger and Thor as fast as her feet would carry her. But both guys were taller than she was, and with their longer strides, they caught up with her pretty easily. Bridger encircled Clio’s body under her armpits and Thor took hold of her feet, the action eliciting a rare smile from him. Clio flailed, laughing hysterically and shouting half-threats as the guys hauled her toward the fountain in the center of the quad.
“Should we be doing something?” I asked Nate, who stood silently watching the spectacle.
He lifted a shoulder. “Clio can take care of herself.” He turned away from the impending splash. “Really, though, if you can tough it out without the nap, we’d love to have you come with us. We don’t usually go much. It’s hard relaxing when it’s packed with other students. Someone’s always trying to buddy up with us, trying to work an angle to help their own prospects when they leave the academy. It’s exhausting.”
“Why not just tell them to buzz off and leave you alone?”
“Optics.” He said the word like it bore physical weight. “There are so many amazing things about being a Blade Keeper, but it comes with a lot of additional responsibility—stuff you wouldn’t think of. And part of that is always putting your best foot forward and treating everyone with kindness and respect—even when you know they’re just trying to use you.”
I detected a well-hidden tiredness in Nate’s eyes. He’d been a Keeper for ten years, and since the Aura Blade chose him when he was so young, I guessed much of his knowledge was hard-won. How many times had he forced himself to smile benignly through a tedious banquet full of politicians when he wanted nothing more than to run and play with friends? I had only been playing a part for a couple of days. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for him all these years.
“You know what?” I placed my hand on his upper arm, giving it a squeeze. It wasn’t until a tingle of electricity crept up my arm that I realized my mistake. The butterflies I’d beaten into submission earlier today returned in full force, and my brain turned fuzzy around the edges. “Maybe I will—”
“Excuse me.”
Shonda’s bored voice cut over the rest of my words. She stood a few feet away, looking as if she would rather be anywhere but here.
Nate smiled, all earlier traces of vulnerability erased in an instant. “Shonda. How can I help you?”
She returned his smile, her expression warmer than I’d ever seen. “No help needed. Headmaster Kemp sent me to give Eden a message.” She turned to me, icy once more. “I’m to inform you to go to the library for your next class.”
“Next class?” I glanced at Nate, hoping he might shed some light on what Shonda was talking about.
“It’s a special independent study for you,” she said. “In the library. There’s a meeting room in the back right corner. You can’t miss it.”
Clio squealed, drawing my attention. I turned in time to see her break loose from Thor’s grip on her legs and use her downward momentum to knock Bridger off balance. She shoved him backward with just enough force to break his hold and send him splashing into the fountain.
Shonda clucked her tongue. “Nate, you might want to get Bridger out of there before he ends up with an infraction.” Her gaze flicked to me. “Your instructor is waiting.” With that, she strode off toward the training gyms.
“Do you know anything about this?” After learning Shonda was the reason my dress hadn’t made it to me yesterday, I was hesitant to trust anything she said.
He shook his head. “But it’s not like they run those kinds of decisions by me.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the building we had just left. “Would you care for an escort to the library?”
Did I want Nate to walk me to the library? Part of me wanted nothing more. He could—and probably should—be over with the rest of the Keepers, but he stayed by my side instead of joining in their shenanigans. After last night, I wanted more opportunities to glimpse one of his smiles or to study the curve of his face.
But Liza’s warning was fresh in my mind. I wasn’t to get too close to anyone here. Friendly, yes. But it had to stop at casual fun.
“No, thanks,” I said, forcing an apologetic smile. “Shonda’s right. You should probably make sure Bridger doesn’t get into trouble. And, like you said, you don’t get a lot of time at the student center. You should take advantage of it while you can.” I waved and spun on my heel before Nate could mount a counter argument. I didn’t know whether I’d be able to resist his offer again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I found the meeting room in the back of the library without any problem, a fact that was more disconcerting than I would have liked. It would be one thing if Shonda were a reliable source of misinformation. I didn’t like having to evaluate whether I could trust she was telling the truth every time she spoke.
The woman within smiled warmly as I entered and gestured to the table near the front of the room. “Come on in, cadet. I’m Lydia Sweeting. The headmaster asked if I could take part in your learning to get you up to speed on some important topics.”
I drifted to the front of the room before taking a seat at the chair with a hardback notebook and a pen on the table in front of it. The cover of the book was black with a silver sword embossed on it.
She turned to the whiteboard as I got settled and began writing something in black marker.
I glanced around the room. Although it probably could have easily seated twenty, the two of us were alone. The skin on the back of my neck prickled. I didn’t like being alone with a stranger in the back of an empty library, but I tried not to let my unease show on my face.
The woman’s hips shook ever so slightly as she finished writing her heading on the board.
“Eternity Blades 101?” Was my lack of prior knowledge on the subject really so clear that the headmaster had seen fit to arrange an entire extra class just for me? “Excuse me, professor. Is this a course all the Keepers have been through?”
“Oh, I’m not a professor,” she blurted, waving away my mistake. She smiled, but the strain around her mouth made me wonder if there was more to that admission than met the eye. “I’m the librarian. Most students call me Miss Sweeting, but in such a close setting, Lydia would be fine. And to answer your question, the other Keepers haven’t been through a specific course like this one. In the past, we’ve had the fortune of allowing the Keepers to learn about the Blades organically over the course of their training, but there is some concern that we won’t have the same luxury with you.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Why not?”
Lydia offered a tight-lipped smile. “I believe you’ll find the answer in our first lesson. Do you know the last time all five Eternity Blades were active?”
My stomach twisted, but I did my best to ignore the sensation. If this were common knowledge among angels, there would be no need to teach it to me. “I’m really not sure.”
She nodded as if my answer didn’t come as a surprise. “And what of the creation of the Blades?”
I shrugged. “They were forged in the eternal realm. And I’m out.”
“They were, indeed,” she agreed. “Generations ago—back when ethereals lived among the mortals—a certain demon gained considerable power and influence over hundreds of thousands of humans.”
I nodded. This, at least, was something I knew a little about. “Belial.”
She nodded encouragingly. “There were already demons on the earth, of course, but none inspired the devotion this demon gained. His rule endangered humanity. He encouraged his human followers to mate with his demon army and produce the nephilim. He demanded they
sacrifice all human offspring as impure.” Her lips trembled, but after a deep breath, she continued. “Angelic forces battled against his, but neither side gained the upper hand. It was then that the Creator saw fit to have the Eternity Blades forged.”
Her story drew me in. The adults in my life didn’t speak of Belial often. The only times I’d heard his name invoked were as a warning not to get too drunk on one’s own power. According to Derek, there were those demons who still held Belial up as an example of the greatness our kind could achieve. But he admitted he’d never met someone who espoused those beliefs.
“A Messenger named Malakiy bought the Blades here, and the commander of the angelic army called for all warriors to submit themselves to see who the weapons would choose to wield them. It’s said it took three days to go through all the ranks until the five were chosen. Amael as the Aura Keeper, Kemuel to hold the Terra Blade. Unda chose Rabia, and Ignis selected Laila. And the first Keeper of the Aether Blade was named Ya’el. With the five of them leading the charge against Belial, he was finally defeated at the Battle of Ga’bel. Once he no longer posed a threat to humanity, the Creator decided it was too dangerous to have ethereals walking among humans. They are amazing beings, but many are too easily swayed by the natural power we ethereals possess. And so the Creator formed the kis, and Warrior angels spent the better part of the next two centuries tracking down every ethereal from every lineage and bringing them to this place.”
I flipped open my notebook as she spoke and started jotting down notes. I wasn’t sure which bits might be important and I didn’t want to risk forgetting something. “Why did it take so long to get everyone in here?”
Lydia shrugged. “The nephilim felt they belonged with humans as much as with ethereals. Some demons thought they might rise to fill Belial’s shoes. Fallen angels argued their rebellion had earned them the right to live where they chose. An entire network of Messenger angels believed cataloging the literary and artistic works of humanity was enough reason for them to stay among them. So the Keepers had to send out contingents of Warrior angels to convince them all to move to the kis.”
I did my best to disguise a snort as a cough. I highly doubted the Warrior angels spent much time rationally persuading ethereals to relocate. If their approach was anything like that of today’s Guards, they probably hauled people off against their will because they had decided it was for the best.
But part of her story stuck out to me. “You said contingents of Warriors went out to bring people in. What were the Keepers doing?”
Lydia smiled approvingly as if pleased I was paying attention. “Early records show they remained in the kis, along with their attendants, to build the foundation of our society.”
I considered the information. “It seems strange that this group of elite warriors was sending other people out instead of going themselves, doesn’t it?”
“Perhaps. But maybe the job didn’t require their skills.”
“But building a society did? What about the senate?”
“Oh, the senate wasn’t established for several generations, when the need arose,” Lydia explained. “Before that, the few surviving records indicate the Keepers and their attendants handled disputes and criminal punishments.”
I set my pen down on the table. “These attendants. Were they like servants or something?”
Lydia chuckled. “Perhaps, although we’ve lost their exact job description to time. When Cadet Ross learned about them, he was very interested in reinstating the tradition.”
While the statement caused Lydia to indulge in a smile at the memory, her words sparked something else in me. “You said the other Keepers found out about this over the course of their training, but you wanted to start these lessons because you were afraid there wouldn’t be time for me to learn all this stuff. Why?”
Lydia nodded solemnly. “It circles back to the first question I asked you. The original Keepers safeguarded the ethereals in the kis for two hundred years before Laila fell at the Battle of Shichur. There was a final stronghold of ethereals living among the mortals, and they refused to abandon the home they made. Teams made many attempts to bring them in peacefully, but they resisted. Finally, the relocation team called in the Keepers. Eventually, the stronghold surrendered, but not before Laila and her attendant died. Over the generations, there have always been Keepers—sometimes four, sometimes as few as one. But the last time all five Blades were active was during the days of the original Keepers. And since they were first chosen to stop Belial from subjugating humanity, there is… concern that perhaps we’ll need five again soon to address a rising evil.”
My stomach twisted. “What kind of rising evil?”
She lifted both her hands. “Of that, I’m unsure. But I—and others—believe there is no time to waste in your training. You must be ready. You must all be ready.”
A shiver coursed down my arms. Could she be right about some danger rising? What would it mean if that danger arrived and the Aether Blade’s true Keeper had yet to be found? If there was some trouble brewing, that put a clock on how long I could remain here without someone figuring out I didn’t belong.
My throat went dry, and I struggled to swallow as I worked through how to ask my next question. “Has there ever been a time when a Blade has… chosen wrong?”
Lydia’s head tipped to the side, an expression I couldn’t identify flitting across her face. “I’m sure you’re not the first Keeper in history to wonder that.”
My shoulders relaxed. If there were no recorded cases of the Blade screwing up, that gave me a little more credibility. I wouldn’t have to wait in fear of the day when someone called me out as a fake.
“No one specifically has the power to remove a Keeper from their role,” Lydia continued. “But there is a precedent for a formal challenge.”
I gave myself a shake, convinced I heard her wrong. “A challenge?”
She nodded. “One account, specifically.” She stepped toward the black rolling cart to her left and picked through a few of the books there before selecting one. After flipping through several pages, she located the spot she sought. “Bastien was a Keeper for the Terra Blade. He suffered a crushing defeat in a battle against a band of rogues terrorizing residents of the kis. Afterward, his attendant—Talitha—challenged him for the Blade’s loyalty.”
My stomach sank. “The Blade’s loyalty? What does that mean?”
“The text is unclear,” she said apologetically. “All it says is once Talitha issued the challenge, the two faced off in a duel.”
“What happened?” I asked, although I was positive the answer wouldn’t comfort me.
“Talitha bested Bastien and became the Terra Blade’s Keeper.”
I released a breath. That wasn’t so bad. “And what happened to Bastien?”
Lydia’s gaze dropped to the text. “He was… killed in the duel.”
She slammed the book’s cover closed, the thud as final as the last nail in a coffin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dinner seemed to drag on forever. I tried to pay attention while Bridger waxed on about how he’d beaten each of the other Keepers at pool, my thoughts kept straying back to Lydia’s lesson.
When we finally bid each other farewell and headed to our rooms, I fought the urge to contact Liza immediately. Even if I jumped on the comm now, there was a high probability she wouldn’t answer. It wasn’t as if she sat around the communication board waiting for me to check in.
I tried to fill the intervening hours with homework, but the physics assignment made no sense and I couldn’t focus on the chapter in the Weapons and Stealth text.
When the time for my check-in came, I was ready to crawl out of my skin. I stowed away in my closet and pressed my comm into place. “Liza?”
“Look who’s finally on time.”
The sound of her voice loosened the knot in my chest. “I’m kind of freaking out.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth. Blurting out my emotions like t
hat wasn’t the plan, but there was no taking it back now.
“What’s the situation?” Liza’s tone was firm, sure. I’d heard her use it countless times before when figuring out what to do in a sticky spot. I just never thought she’d have to use it with me.
“They made me attend this crash-course in Eternity Blades today,” I said, the words pouring out in a rush. “And when I asked if there’s ever been a time when a Blade chose wrong, the librarian said no, but there’s a chance someone could challenge me.”
Liza clucked her tongue. “Well, that’s not ideal.”
I barked out a laugh. “Tell me about it.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “Is that something that happened recently?”
I tried to recall if Lydia had indicated the time frame. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s reassuring. Did this librarian say anything about what prompted the challenge?”
“I guess the guy lost a battle against some rogues. And then someone wanted to duel for the Blade.”
“Result?”
I gulped. “The challenger won. She killed the Keeper.”
Liza blew out a breath. “Definitely not ideal. But it could be worse. Sounds like challenges like these don’t happen often.”
She didn’t bother stating the obvious—that my situation differed from any other since the beginning of the Keepers. There was no playbook to follow here.
“Don’t get yourself worked up over this,” Liza continued. “It sounds like it’s not a common thing. You just stick with the plan. Fit in. Keep your head down and your ears open.”
I tried to take comfort in her reassurance, but it was easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one putting herself at risk. Still, I knew my aunt well enough to be sure this marked the end of the discussion on the matter. “What’s going on with the clinic?”
“I passed along your intel to Doc, but I haven’t heard anything else yet.”
The lack of news wasn’t a surprise. I hadn’t been able to provide many actionable details for Doc to move on. It was possible she wouldn’t accept the threat as credible.
Traces of Sulfur: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Series (Blade Keeper Academy Book 1) Page 16
